


the empty jar of everything

by captaincastello



Series: tiny sheiths [7]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Orphanage, Christmas, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-26
Updated: 2017-12-26
Packaged: 2019-02-21 23:08:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,077
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13153959
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/captaincastello/pseuds/captaincastello
Summary: Most of the other kids have their own jars, but unlike Keith’s, theirs were filled to the brim with various objects.Keith wanted to trap the moon inside his because Shiro always found it so pretty, but because he hasn’t found a way to do that yet, the jar remains empty. After all, there’s only so much you can reach when you’re a five-year old.





	the empty jar of everything

**Author's Note:**

> this has been quite a busy holiday season, so this work is unbeta'd and i might return to edit it someday, but for now, please do enjoy some tiny holiday sheiths~~  
> merry christmas to you, wherever you may be in the universe <3

 

 

Keith doesn’t have to pull his head out of the warm quilt to know who it is who’s coming in silently through the door to the bedroom. In the veil of night and pale moonlight, he needs only to rely on his ears to be completely sure about the steady and careful footfalls counting down the rows of bunkbeds to where he’s lying down under the sheets.

“Keith? Are you awake?”

In reply, Keith pokes his tiny hand out from under the quilt. He already knows Shiro is smiling as he takes it, and finally Keith can admit to himself that maybe he has been quite lonely despite his strong insistence that he’d rather sleep his fever off than spend a few hours playing nice with the other kids now partying and exchanging gifts under the Christmas tree. Shiro’s bigger hand is a welcome warmth, and Keith isn’t sure if he’s the one pulling him under, or if it was Shiro’s plan all along to skip the party to share a quilt with the sick kid.

“It’s warmer here,” Shiro whispers as his weight settles snuggly against Keith.

“Well, right now I’m a burning furnace,” Keith remarks, secretly proud to correctly use a word Shiro taught him from his books, as he shuffles backward to allow Shiro more space. They’re only a couple of years apart, but Shiro sure grows fast— at seven years old, he’s already bigger than most of the eights and nines in the orphanage.

The smile Shiro gives him is a lit match that fuels his flames, and Keith wonders if he’s enough to melt all the majestic white gathered in the backyard right now.

“They’re going to look for you,” Keith says, a little surprised at the sudden sadness creeping up in his tiny chest once he says the words out loud. And yet he knows he can’t be wrong—he’s been around Shiro enough to notice how everyone likes him. And how could they not? Shiro can run the fastest, can throw the ball farthest, and can climb the highest branch in the highest tree, and can climb back down before any of the Sisters notice.

“It’s fine, everyone’s too busy opening their presents anyway,” Shiro says with a light shrug of his shoulders. “Also, I told Sister Adelaide I can stay here with you so she can go enjoy the party too.”

“So that’s why she hasn’t returned from potty break,” Keith says. “I thought the toilet had swallowed her up.”

Shiro laughs into his palm, and the little tremors his body extend in wildfire racing through Keith’s veins. For now, he thinks it’s magic what Shiro does to him sometimes, because he can’t think of the most suitable word for it yet. Later on, when he does find a word for this Shiro Effect, he’ll lightly chide himself for not realizing sooner why he always prefers Shiro’s company over all the differently colored pebbles or warm milk before bedtime. Just like this, face to face, his mismatched socks brushing against the fabric of Shiro’s thermal pajamas.

“Did you find _your_ present?” Keith asks the wool coating Shiro’s fingers, because it’s easier than looking directly at him for some reason.

“Mhmm,” Shiro nods. He lets go of Keith’s hand to fish out a tiny empty glass jar with a bow on it from his jacket pocket, and places it between their faces for them to see.

Most of the other kids have their own jars, but unlike Keith’s, theirs were filled to the brim with various objects. Some kids filled theirs temporarily with fireflies during the summer, others collected colored pencil shavings or marbles of different hues. Shiro never liked the idea of trapping fireflies because they deserved to fly freely wherever they wanted, but he wished to catch a real star or two. For now, he isn’t tall enough to reach the sky yet, so he filled his jar with tiny glowing rocks instead, which he managed to arrange into his best attempt of a hippopotamus’ face. The jar now sits on Keith’s bedside table, bathing in moonlight by the curtained window.

Keith wanted to trap the moon inside his because Shiro always found it so pretty, but because he hasn’t found a way to do that yet, the jar remains empty. After all, there’s only so much you can reach when you’re a five-year old. However, he wanted to fill it up in time for Shiro’s Christmas present, so he filled it up with everything he wanted for Shiro to have.

“How was it?” Keith’s voice is an almost inaudible whisper, but Shiro catches it like he always does.

Shiro takes a tiny contemplative pause which makes Keith even more nervous than he already is.

“… I’m not so sure,” he finally says, his face a painting of emotions Keith can’t quite give names to.

“Oh,” he replies, his shoulders sagging lightly into the cushions. He didn’t think of this kind of outcome or reaction at all, and in turn, he doesn’t know how to react either. Maybe he should have tried harder about taking the moon.

“I mean,” Shiro quickly adds, his voice rising half an octave. “I probably messed up.”

Keith looks up at him through his long hair, confusion swimming in his eyes. “How so?”

Shiro shifts uncomfortably beside him as he plays with the fringes of the red bow tied around the jar. His voice drops into a low whisper, as if he was embarrassed and apologetic, which reminds Keith of the time Shiro admitted to Sister Justine that he had secretly taken an extra cookie after dinner even if they were rationed, just because Keith had mentioned he was still hungry after his bowl of spaghetti.

“Maybe I took the lid off too quickly?” Shiro continues, his usual jovial tone replaced with worry and guilt. “What if I accidentally unleashed all the secrets you kept inside it?”

“Why do you think that?”

“Because I didn’t hear anything at all… I placed my ear against it like you said in the note… but what if your secrets escaped before I could hear them?”

Keith furrows his eyebrows in growing confusion. Shiro is always good at following instructions, he couldn’t have done anything that was the opposite. “They can’t, because they’re only meant to be heard by you… maybe I didn’t keep them as well as I could have.”

Shiro wordlessly looks at the closed jar resting between them.

“… or maybe it’s broken?”

They share a look before Shiro uncaps the lid, and they lean in closer so that they could hear.

Keith holds his breath just to make sure that he’s silent, but: “You’re right, I don’t hear anything…” he says as disappointment dawns on him for failing Shiro at Christmas of all times. Maybe all the other kids were right. Maybe it is just an empty jar.

“They’re supposed to be all in here,” he whimpers as he takes the jar from Shiro and rattles it downward just to make sure that there really is nothing.

“I believe you,” Shiro says, his hands finding Keith’s and holding them there. “Maybe they just disappeared because they weren’t getting enough sunlight or something.”

“I’m sorry,” Keith says, warmth reaching his eyes in the form of liquid. “I really wanted you to have them.”

Shiro reaches over and catches a salty drop on his finger. “It’s kind of weird though… I may not know what was inside it, but for some reason, I just can’t feel sad even if I try to.”

“How is that?”

“I don’t know either,” Shiro shrugs. “But when I saw your gift with my name on it, I just felt really happy.”

Shiro’s smiles is a very contagious disease and Keith always catches it, even when he fell on the mud and scraped his knee in the rain a few months back. Magic, he thinks again, because Shiro can instantly turn the awfulness in his chest into something warm and bright.

Keith wipes the remaining moisture latching onto his eyelashes, and looks back at Shiro with a new resolve.

“Try it again,” he says as he hands the jar back to him. “And close your eyes.”

“Okay,” Shiro says quietly, the tender smile never leaving his lips. He turns to fully lie down on his back, and carefully places the open mouth of the empty jar against his right ear. The world sounds muffled on this end, like an empty vacuum or a room of amplified silence, yet he waits for Keith’s voice to fill the void which he’s sure he’s going to hear soon because Keith has never lied to him since.

To his left, he feels Keith shift his weight as he, too, inches closer, his tiny warm hand cupping Shiro’s left ear. Curious and yet obedient to the letter, Shiro lies unmoving, waiting as Keith’s warm breath brushes his skin.

Then:

“Secret Number One,” Keith begins in a nervous-sounding whisper. “Promise you won’t laugh, okay?”

“I won’t,” Shiro whispers back, his eyes still shut and yet he sees a galaxy full of stars.

 “Alright,” Keith says, and he exhales a big breath that lightly tickles Shiro all the way down to the base of his neck. “I… I really like you when you smile. I mean, I still like you even if you don’t, but when you smile, I just really, _really_ like it.”

“But I just lost a tooth,” Shiro says, his tongue reflexively travelling to fill the gap by his right cheek. What he doesn’t say is how Secret Number One is making his stomach do somersaults inside his body.

“Doesn’t matter,” Keith whispers back. “It’s still the same smile to me.”

Shiro breaks out into a wide smile and a tiny laugh, and Keith is sure Shiro will have this magic on him forever.

“Secret Number Two,” Keith continues. “I know Sister Justine said this was wrong, but I was really happy when you got me the extra cookie. But really, a life of crime isn’t for you Shiro. Don’t do that again. But it made me really happy and I wasn’t hungry anymore after that, so, thank you.”

Shiro laughs again. “You’re always welcome, Keith.”

“Secret Number Three,” Keith says as he moves his free hand to take Shiro’s free hand. “This.”

Shiro squeezes his hand back. It feels warm.

“Secret Number Four: I still wish I could get the moon for you.”

Shiro instantly remembers waking up in the middle of the night to the voice of the surprised Sister Francine finding Keith standing in his winter clothes outside in the yard after curfew. Keith had sneaked out, his empty jar held out to the sky, as he followed the bright celestial orb in its unhurried excursion across the heavens. The thick blanket of white draped over their yard was littered with tiny footsteps, as Keith had been trying to see if he could catch the moon at different angles. The next day, Keith couldn’t leave his bed, and his skin was warm like summer.

“But that’s how you got sick,” Shiro whispers back, worry creasing the middle of his eyebrows.

“That doesn’t seem so bad right now,” Keith shrugs.

Shiro begins to laugh, and Keith joins him as well. Who knew laughing was a better way to get warmer than hiding under a quilt? Or maybe this is Shiro’s magic working on him again.

“Oh Keith, don’t do that again… or at least take me with you next time so I can make sure you won’t catch a fever instead of the moon.”

“The Sisters will get mad,” Keith says, but his smile says he doesn’t really mind.

“Maybe when we get older, when adults won’t have to get mad at us,” Shiro says as he squeezes Keith’s hand again. “Maybe even then we can be tall enough to catch some stars as well.”

“Okay,” Keith whispers back, a wish forming in his mind for his next letter to Santa. If there is a way to grow up right in this second so that he could finally catch Shiro the moon, that would definitely be on the top of his wishlist.

But, the ‘now’ that they’re both in—well, it’s not so bad. Actually, it’s better than how Keith expected his night to be. He leans in closer, burning with Shiro’s magic, as he continues to pour out his gift.

“Secret Number Five…”


End file.
